


moments

by poalimal



Series: sam/bucky drabbles [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Can just be read as an AU though, Depression, Drabble, Gen, M/M, Technically Endgame compliant? Kind of?, hurt/comfort?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-08 01:57:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18885784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poalimal/pseuds/poalimal
Summary: Life can be hard, Nana used to say. Only thing that makes it all worthwhile are the people we love along the way.





	moments

 

Nighttime. It's late enough (early enough?) that time doesn't feel quite real. Life at this time of night feels like something measured in some vague unit, like moments, rather than something specific, quantifiable, and finite: like seconds.

'I can hear you thinking from all the way inside,' Bucky says, sliding the door open and setting off the porch light. Sam has been sitting in darkness for a long time. He doesn't say anything, just watches Bucky pad down the stairs and out onto the green grass, making his way out to the pecan tree. He takes his time; light even goes out again. Sam just watches his eyes in the moon, and lets the pang in his heart grow.

Bucky stops before Sam, looks into his face, and leans down and kisses him, warm all over. Sam receives the comfort gratefully, sighing out through his nose. Bucky smells like tomato leaves, like falling asleep in the sun; and Sam needs him very much.

'I'm here,' says Bucky, letting Sam bury his face against his midsection. 'It's ok, Sam, I'm here.' He strokes Sam's head with his left hand, leaving cool little circles on his scalp. 'Oh, Sam,' he breathes, 'you're so cold.'

Sam closes his eyes hard, and wraps his arms around Bucky's stomach. 'Hold on, sweetheart,' says Bucky, patting him on the shoulder, 'let me sit down, and hold you properly.'

Sam lets Bucky go reluctantly, scooting to the side so he can kick off his sandals and climb into the loveseat. The loveseat wobbles and swings in place as they find each other in the middle.

'You got grass all on your feet,' Sam observes, laying his head against Bucky's chest. Breathing in the smell of him, the warmth of him.

'Yea,' says Bucky happily, 'ain't it beautiful?'

The bitter pang in Sam's chest tips over into sweetness. He raises his head, and looks at Bucky carefully. 'You know,' he says, swallowing, 'I love you.'

Bucky ducks their heads together. 'Yea,' he says, low. A barred owl calls in the night - a sound, a moment, a second. 'I know.'

 

 

 


End file.
